


Is There an Echo in Here?

by Marks



Category: Fall Out Boy, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-03-17
Updated: 2008-03-17
Packaged: 2017-11-29 00:04:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/680393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marks/pseuds/Marks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Patrick's got a mini-me, or "Brendon's not here, man."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Is There an Echo in Here?

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this a long while back and just never posted it. Weird, me. 965 words and total crack. Stoned Ryan Ross owns my soul.

"Patrick's got a Mini-Me," Pete tells Joe, jumping onto the couch to make Joe's crotch into his headrest.

Joe blinks in confusion. "What, like a tiny Pete Wentz? Doesn't that get confusing?" He pauses, horrified. "Is it clingier than you?"

Pete half-heartedly slaps Joe's knee. "Shut the fuck up. A tiny Pete would be awesome. But no. Patrick has a follower."

"I'm sure he's thrilled with that," Joe laughs. "So, what's her name?"

"Brendon Urie."

"Oh," Joe says, nodding sagely, " _her_."

\--

Patrick adjusts his hat. Brendon adjusts his. Patrick ties a scarf around his neck. Brendon steals one out of Ryan's bag and loops it around his throat. Patrick brushes lint off his jeans. Brendon takes his off.

"Uh," says Patrick.

"Not tight enough," Brendon explains, putting on another pair that are pretty much painted on. "Shit. How do you do that with your thighs?"

" _Uh_ ," says Patrick, once more with feeling.

\--

Ryan curls around his guitar and strums a chord, giggling when his hand slides up the frets. He writes something down and goes back to playing. Spencer peers over Ryan's shoulder and wonders what _Oh my God, I need to buy Corn Nuts_ has to do with songwriting.

Spencer clears his throat.

Ryan looks up and blinks, slow as anything. He smiles widely. "My best friend in the whole world, Spencer Smith." He's lucky that he's wearing his guitar strap because it's the only thing keeping his guitar from crashing to the floor when Ryan thrusts both fists high in the air.

"Where's Brendon?" Spencer asks.

"Brendon's not here, man," Ryan replies.

"Yeah, _clearly_." Spencer grins. He tries being annoyed with Ryan, but it's hard when Ryan's just so happy these days. "Do you know where he actually is?"

"Oh, oh, wait." Ryan flips through his notebook, past a scribble that declares that cupcakes are delicious to a note in Brendon's handwriting. "This says he's with Patrick. Oh no, he joined Fall Out Boy," Ryan gasps, eyes widening.

"Ryan, I think he's just hanging out with him." Spencer reminds himself to raid Ryan's stash more often. He's so holding the good stuff.

\--

Patrick sings a scale. Brendon echoes it. Patrick sings another scale, sliding up half a step. Brendon echoes it, and grins. Patrick finds himself grinning back, and drops an entire octave. Brendon shifts on the bed, then echoes it.

Patrick shifts, too.

\--

"So, how's your shadow?" Pete asks, crumpling up a piece of paper and throwing it at Patrick's head.

Patrick lifts his chin with great dignity. Of course, his face is obscured by his laptop, but whatever. He's loaded with dignity. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"I mean Brendon Urie's big old mancrush on you," Pete says. "I swear, I knew taking Panic on tour with us again would be good for everyone's ego. Have you taught him all about the world beyond candle salad and polygamy yet?"

Patrick glares.

"Aww, don't be like that, Patrick." Pete rolls off the bed and walks over to Patrick on his knees, resting his chin on Patrick's leg and putting him on level with Patrick's monitor. Patrick, for his part, tries to frantically change windows, only to realize that his Powerbook hates him with the burning of a thousand suns.

Pete starts laughing so hard that his entire body shakes and he has to bury his face in Patrick's side.

"Yeah, the Brendon tag on Buzznet has the best pictures, doesn't it? Creepy stalkers."

\--

"Aw man, Spence." Brendon sticks his lower lip out. "Don't do the eyebrow thing."

"Then answer the question." The eyebrow is not to be trifled with. Brendon shivers.

"I don't know," Brendon says. He slumps his shoulders. "He's _Patrick_."

Spencer crosses his legs and waits.

"He's a great singer, he plays as many instruments as me, I like talking to him, I like his hats, and he's hot. I like him, okay? I like him. Whatever, half the world has a crush on him, I don't know why I have to be any different." Brendon desperately throws himself into his bunk, and exhales. He feels like a deflated old tire. It's sort of a relief.

"Well," Spencer says a moment later, pulling back the curtain to Brendon's bunk, "why aren't you doing anything about it?"

\--

"Nice hat," Patrick says.

"Thanks. You too," Brendon says. They're alone in Patrick's hotel room, but they're not singing, there are no instruments, and the laptop isn't even open. It's weird, oddly tense. Brendon scratches his palm and swallows in the silence.

"What's with those anyway?" Patrick blurts finally. "The hats, the singing, all the hanging around out of nowhere. Are you trying to be my clone?"

Brendon's eyes widen. "No! I...Okay, you're going to laugh."

"Okay," Patrick says slowly. He sits down on the bed. "Are you going to tell a joke?"

"No," Brendon says. He sits down, too. "But you can laugh at me." Brendon takes a deep breath. "I like you."

Patrick doesn't laugh. "I know."

"I mean, it makes me happy when I'm around you or when things remind me of you, and that's what the hats are about. I _like you,_ like you."

"I _know_ ," Patrick says again. He tilts his head. "So when are you going to do something about it?"

Brendon stares. "Wait, what?"

"Oh, for fuck's sake," Patrick says, and rolls around until he's straddling Brendon's lap. He puts his hand in the middle of Brendon's chest, and Brendon completely forgets how to breathe.

"Uh, Patrick, you don't have to --"

"Relax." Patrick turns the brim of his hat to one side, reaches over and tosses Brendon's away. "Just follow my lead," Patrick says, breathing hot against Brendon's mouth.

And Brendon can _totally_ do that.


End file.
